Beskar's Curse
by TheLastSalamander
Summary: Exiled from his people, Riva makes his living as so many Mandalorians do: hunting down bounties and doing mercenary work for the highest bidder. When he accepts a bounty on runaway Jedi padawan Velona however, what began as just another hunt quickly becomes much more complicated as the two of them become embroiled in a scandal which will rock the Jedi Order to its foundations.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1—I'll Pay You Double

The Delphanian sprinted down the corridor, nearly colliding with the battle droids who stood in his way.

"Stop him! Seal the doors after me! Kill him!"

He dashed over the threshold of the blast doors and they began to slide shut, but not nearly fast enough for his liking.

A cacophony of blaster fire erupted as the droids engaged his pursuer, whom he dared not look back at lest he trip and fall. His breath came in short, labored gasps as he closed the distance between him and the speeder. As he ran he said a silent prayer to whatever god or gods might exist that if he got out of this one he would turn his whole life around. No more stealing from crime lords, no more stealing at all, no more shady dealings, no more dirt.

The processed air of the hanger bay felt like a pair of icicles in his lungs, burning them as he hopped up onto the speeder and slipped into the drivers seat. Before the glass cockpit even had time to close around him he was keying in the ignition sequence and pushing it skyward towards the opening hanger bay doors above him. He waited for a hail of blaster bolts to rock the speeder or a rocket to obliterate it, but nothing happened and he breathed a sigh of relief. He had escaped. That was far, far too close for comfort.

_**THUNK **_

The craft rocked and swayed as something landed on its surface and the Delphanian looked over his shoulder just in time to see an ominous silhouette and a gauntlet-covered arm crashing through the cockpit canopy. A whipcord wrapped itself around him and suddenly he was airborne. Now pilot-less, the speeder veered sharply to the side and continued on into the wall, exploding into flame and scrap metal. The two of them drifted back down to the deck of the hanger. He struggled fruitlessly against the whipcord the whole way down until at last he was dumped unceremoniously upon the floor and the Mandalorian landed next to him. Before it switched off, the back-blast of hot air from the jetpack swept over him and very nearly scorched his eyebrows off.

"Please, Riva!" The Delphanian begged, "Ill double it! Whatever they're paying you, Ill give you twice that!"

The Mandalorian chuckled softly and he bent down so that his expressionless, helmeted face was mere centimeters from the Delphanian's ugly, flattened nose.

"If I had a credit for every time I heard that one, I could have retired by now."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 – A Job Like This

The surface of Coruscant twinkled and shimmered. Millions and millions of lights encrusted the planet, and as Riva watched the sky changed hues from black to blue to orange. Gradually the system's star, Coruscant Prime, peeked over the curve of the horizon. Brilliant rays of sunshine splashed across the atmosphere, illuminating the clouds. As his ship dipped lower and lower toward the surface, Riva hailed the nearest traffic control point.

"Tower, this is 709-F11, equipment model is AEG-77 Vigo, callsign is Shieldbearer, requesting permission to enter your airspace."

There was a pause and then a burst of static and the reply came through in a tinny, distorted voice.

"Shieldbearer, this is tower, entry approved. Approach shipping lane twelve at thirty degrees north from your current heading, be advised there is a collision blocking lanes seven and eight."

"Copy that tower, thirty degrees north of my current heading, much obliged, Shieldbearer out."

He joined the stream of ships and chose a path that skirted around the edge of the Senate District. After he had avoided that maze of towers and traffic the lanes opened up and industrial district one lay sprawled out before him. The speeder lanes below were almost deserted and the shipping lanes were full of freighters and cargo haulers. The skyline here was even hazier than the capital region. It was much more flat as well, the enormous factories punctuated by exhaust pipes, power conduits, scrap yards and huge open-air factories where ship parts were assembled in preparation for being hauled up to orbit and put together in the massive shipyards high above or used to replace damaged portions of ships which were sitting in drydock.

On the edge of an enormous boneyard his ship's autopilot pulled him out of the shipping lane. He soared over the yard which was filled with the rusted wrecks of an enormous variety of vehicles and machinery. A swarm of droids were moving between the wrecks, dismantling them piece by piece like a swarm of leafcutter insects tearing apart their prey. The ship set down on a landing pad on the far side which was surrounded by stacks of scrap metal, obscuring it from view. Riva rented this landing pad and the modest warehouse immediately adjoining it from the boneyard owner who was an old friend he had met when he first came to Coruscant after his exile from Mandalore. It was discrete, out of the way of prying eyes, and no one would think to look for him here. Here he could do whatever he wanted without worrying about neighbors asking questions or alerting the authorities. He regularly checked his ship for tracking devices and if he thought that he was being followed he would proceed on down the shipping lane several klicks past the boneyard and then make several circuits, checking his six for any tails. There was a gentle thump as the Shieldbearer touched down and he popped his restraint harness off, bounced up out of his seat and strode into the cargo bay to check on his bounty. The Delphanian was still sleeping soundly, sedated by a heavy dose of tranquilizer. Riva didn't use carbonite like a lot of successful bounty hunters did. It was expensive and unless it was a particularly large bounty or the target was known to be dangerous or escape-prone it wasn't worth it to him.

Instead he used an easier method which required much less expenditure and was faster to set up yet achieved a very similar result. He used a saber dart filled with knockout chemical and then rigged a medicine autodispenser with two needles, one with more sedative mixture and another with a mixture of nutrients, vitamins and hydration so the bounty could be kept asleep for up to three days without having to wake them. Like his other bounties, he had placed the Delphanian in a repulsorlift coffin to move him from place to place. He enjoyed the irony of it. Most of the people he captured alive had fallen afoul of one unscrupulous individual or another and were destined to be tortured to death anyway, so the method of transport was appropriate.

Riva lowered the landing ramp and went inside the warehouse, leaving the coffin sitting in the cargo bay. The door from the landing ramp led into a crowded workshop containing a wide variety of tools and a different weapons and pieces of gear in various states of repair, projects he had adopted or abandoned based on his mood that day and his level of boredom. Through another door was his living room and small kitchen. There was a bed in the far corner but most nights he slept in his ship or on the couch. For some reason he felt more comfortable that way, more protected. When he fell asleep with his armor on he felt safe, but for sanitary reasons this was not always possible. He did always sleep within arms reach of his weapons however. In his hip holsters he carried a DL-44 heavy blaster and a suppressed slugthrower pistol. He liked this setup. Westar 34s were for people who couldn't hit the broad side of a starship at point blank range. DC 17s and NN-14s were too lightweight. A DL-44 was just right. Nice and heavy, blow a hole in just about anything. Some people complained about their overheating and slow draw, but in Riva's opinion those people needed to learn how to aim and do some more pushups. When you made your first shot your best shot there was no need for mindless spraying. The slugthrower pistol was an odd choice, but he liked the ancient weapon design a lot. You couldn't silence a blaster, and even a force sensitive individual had trouble stopping slugs.

On his belt he had thermal detonaters, limpet charges, two small Eyeball-model recon drones, and a vicious vibroblade knife than he kept razor sharp at all times. His gauntlets had been decked out with almost every dirty trick a Mandalorian could ask for: a grapple launcher that doubled as a whipcord, a flamethrower, dart launcher and wrist rockets. Slung across his back was a heavily modified A280 blaster rifle. Not that he had to use all that, especially to bring in a target alive as was often preferred by his employers, but it was helpful to be able to untangle oneself from whatever sticky situations might arise. Maintaining and adding to his arsenal gave him something to do as well. Between ship maintenance, jobs, keeping his armor and weapons working and doing target research he had little time to think about anything else and that was the way he liked it. When he had free time his mind began to wander into dark places filled with regret and pain, and that was when he craved deathsticks and other drugs. When he had something to do and a goal to focus on, everything was much easier. When he was idle his thoughts drifted back to his past, and he spent enough time dwelling on that in his dreams, he did not need to do it in his waking hours as well.

Not wishing to let his precious cargo out of sight for too long, he went to the back of the couch and pushed it out of position with his shoulder. Underneath was what looked like just another section of smooth floor tiles, but one of them was raised almost imperceptibly higher than the others. He tapped a button on his gauntlet and it flipped open, revealing a small safe full of credits, ingots of Beskar and various other precious items and valuables. He reached into a pouch on his belt, pulled out a handful of credit chips of various denominations and tossed them in, adding to the disorganized pile. Sooner or later he was going to have to tidy it up a bit. He liked to keep everything in physical cash. The idea of digital bank accounts didn't sit well with him. He was perfectly capable of keeping his money safe and he hardly needed a savings account to make his money work for him.

As he passed back through the workshop on his way out he grabbed a few vials of tibanna gas from the table. He made sure the door was locked, and then gestured for the floating coffin with his quarry to come down the landing ramp. He hit another button on his gauntlet and the landing ramp shut. Via a holonet application he hailed a speeder taxi and then stood in silence for a while, emptying the pressurized cartridges of tibanna gas into his pistol one at a time and then hurling them out into the rest of the scrapyard to join the detritus there. A stiff breeze caused scraps of plastic to flutter against the chainlink fence that divided the landing pad from the rest of the property. About twelve minutes later a speeder appeared out of the sky and squeezed into the space between his ship and the warehouse. He pulled the passenger side door open. The driver was a Twi'lek.

"Can I put my cargo in the trunk?"

"Of course. The Twi'lek replied, eyeing the floating coffin nervously.

The rear cargo bay snapped open and Riva gestured to it. Obediently the coffin rose up and found a place for itself, turning diagonally to fit. Satisfied, Riva went around again to the passenger side door and hopped in next to the driver. Most people sat in the back when they hailed a taxi, but personally he liked to be up front so he could watch the driver's hands. Trust was something earned, not given.

"We're headed to level 1147, corner of Gamma Street and Old Republic Way."

Out of the corner of his eye he could see the taxi driver swallow hard as he punched the coordinates.

"That's a long way down, friend..."

"It's a safe area," Riva said with a chuckle. "The police come around two or three times a month."

It took them about thirty five minutes to make their way back towards the Senate District and enter the massive tunnels that led down into the underbelly of Coruscant. Down there underneath the miles and miles of compacted skyscrapers and new construction lay whole ecosystems and stratas of life that rarely if ever saw the light of day. Sixty levels down the shine from Coruscant Prime faded to a glimmer, and after that they were plunged into an artificial night lit only by street lights, buildings and the garish glow of billboards. As they moved through the maze of duricrete and transparisteel, Riva gazed out the window at all the lights and life forms floating by outside. It was like being submerged in the ocean with all sorts of strange fish of every color, stripe and hue floating by outside. Moments like this made him wonder… what were their lives like? What might his life have been like, were he born staring out of the eyes of a body other than this one? What force had decided his soul be placed in this one?

He often wondered what it would have been like to grow up a relatively normal child. To have had a mother and father instead of being a foundling adopted by the Mandalorians. How would his life have played out differently? There was little use in this kind of thinking, but at times he could not avoid it.

They entered another tunnel and it took them down and down and down, plummeting into the lower reaches of the cityscape. At last they leveled out, and the taxi driver nudged his speeder toward an exit tunnel marked "1147" in a variety of languages. If Coruscant was an ocean, this was certainly the beginning of the abyssal region. The fish down here were uglier and stranger. There were fewer of them due to the scarcity of available food and energy in the ecosystem, and they tended to move slower under the immense pressure, except when it came time to snap up a juicy looking morsel of prey.

From behind them, they began to hear a faint thumping noise and a voice speaking a few muffled words, which they could not make out. This only increased the agitation of the taxi driver who already looked like he would rather not have been roped into this endeavor, no matter how much it paid. Riva flicked open a flap on the underside of his gauntlet and consulted the small screen there. The bounty's vital signs were a little too vigorous for his liking. He released another half dose of tranquilizer. No need to knock him out all the way, they were almost there. Just enough to keep him docile until he could hand his bounty over to Teskya. Teskya Hutt was one of the few crime lords on Coruscant who could hold his own with the Black Sun. He had established himself on the sublevels a couple hundred years before Riva had been born and made quite a name for himself in the intervening period. The mere mention of his name was enough to make lesser ruffians fall in line and behave. As they pulled up outside of Essence, the nightclub which served as the entrance to Teskya's lair, Riva stepped out and glanced around, giving each quadrant of the compass a healthy glare. Situational awareness was paramount when moving through the lower levels. Beings did not live down here because they enjoyed it, in most cases they lived down here because they could not afford to move up, or because they were hiding from the authorities, who only patrolled once in a blue moon, and mostly to show that they could still do so. Every so often they would execute a search warrant and kick in someone's door, but it was never Teskya's. He paid his dues.

The corner of Gamma and Old Republic Way was relatively quiet and trouble-free compared with the rest of the sublevel. A few merrymakers and rabblerousers were gathered in groups, their intoxication obvious from any distance, but the only goons posted on the corners were Teskya's, ensuring that none of the partying threatened security and no undesired guests made their way inside. The frontage of the nightclub was ornate, and it put the drab buildings surrounding it to shame. It was five stories high and its facade gave it the appearance of something closer to a town hall then a palace of sin. Essence was undoubtedly the center of economic activity on this sublevel, and of several sublevels up and down. This was not saying much, of course, considering that down here the most lucrative activity was selling drugs, sex or other contraband, but Teskya's influence was undoubtedly a civilizing one. The Hutt was orderly, meticulous. He made legitimate investments as well as illegitimate ones. This made him… almost palatable to the authorities. While they could not be seen interacting with a Hutt by the general public, as the species had a bad reputation that was well-earned, this particular Hutt they could stomach, even root for. Nothing orderly had happened this far down in a while. There were few major players down here capable of being negotiated with. Just fiends and bandits and more fiends.

Speaking of fiends, a couple of them attempted to come up to Riva with hands outstretched and murmurs of "spare a credit, sir?" and "haven't eaten all day.." but he shooed them away. His eyes had seen far too much random suffering and anguish to be swayed by the self-inflicted pain of the junkie. The ruffians guarding the block paid him no mind, and the bouncer waved him and his floating coffin through immediately. He was a regular. One of Teskya's favorite. Even during those two years when he had been strung out on deathsticks, Teskya had kept him on the payroll. He was a professional at heart. He had never failed yet.

Inside the nightclub the press of bodies on the dance floor was thick, the drinks flowed, the air was thick with pungent smoke and scantily clad women were in great abundance. The music pulsed a bass-filled drone and, not for the first time, Riva felt thankful for the noise dampeners in his helmet. He already had tinnitus from thermal detonators and rockets exploding too near his head, he saw no reason to add to the hearing damage, no matter how much skin the women were showing. He and his floating bounty caused a rift to open in the crowd. Most people were regulars and knew what he was here for. Others who were here for the first time shot him fascinated glances. It was not every day you saw a Mandalorian. Overall Essence was no seedier or more dangerous a nightclub than anything one might encounter on the upper levels or even the surface. Teskya kept a tight leash on things, as was his wont. Trouble makers found themselves being quickly escorted out. The Hutt took great pride in the fact that Essence was extremely popular and attracted a certain section of upper-class clientele- the hedonists and thrill-seekers among the rich and famous of Coruscant who savored the idea of partying on the lower levels near the bowels of Galactic City. Dealers and prostitutes did a brisk business, and all paid Teskya their cut. It was a well-oiled machine, and Riva couldn't help but admire it even as he was repulsed by it.

He made his way through the club to the back where there were a set of double doors and another four hulking guards, each casually toting a blaster rifle. That was one thing you wouldn't see in an upper level nightclub. Down here there were no police coming. Teskya's men were the police. He was let through the double doors and another guard ushered him into the freight elevator. He knew this guard well, it was one of Teskya's favorite.

"Good hunting?"

"Good hunting." Riva replied. "Wasn't too much trouble, this one practically wet his pants when I caught up to him."

"He'd better be. Teskya was beside himself- fuming the whole time you were gone. He's never been cheated out of that much spice before. "

The freight elevator reached the bottom of the shaft and he and the guard traded a knowing look and a nod and he headed out into the hallway where up ahead there was another security checkpoint, this one much larger than the one at the top of the elevator. Anyone who managed to shoot their way through the security out on the street, through the whole nightclub, and killed the guards at the top of the elevator, they would take it down the shaft and the doors would open into a solid stream of blaster-fire and nowhere to run or take cover. After a precursory inspection he was let through this checkpoint and into Teskya's hideout. It was, like many other sublevel structures, dug out of the compacted rubble of the upper stories which had collapsed over the years. Much of the new construction above was done without the proper inspection of the stories below to ensure their load bearing columns were still in good shape and could bear the additional weight. As a result catastrophic collapses happened in centuries past, creating mountain ranges of destroyed buildings which were once again built upon. In recent times however building inspectors were mandated to follow the support beams down all the way to the surface of the planet. It was such a common practice that building inspectors and their security details were a more common sight than policemen. They were usually left alone.

As Riva moved deeper into the fortress he passed a door to a room which was usually kept closed and locked. From out of the doorway a barely perceptible vapor was crawling across the floor and the smell of death sticks hit him like a ton of bricks. In truth it was a foul, sulfurous stench but to his nose it smelled like the sweetest ichor, like the smell of sex and liquor and fresh leather and every other good and beautiful thing in the world combined. Unable to stop himself, he felt his legs veer off course and walk towards the doorway until he was staring through it into the room beyond. Dozens of tables were lined up in three rows. Women dressed in face masks and nothing else processed the finished batch into the characteristic long vials that gave the drug the name death sticks. Piles of unprocessed product lay on each table, fresh from the bioreactor where they had been synthesized and still emanating noxious fumes. The girls, some of whom Riva recognized, looked up from their work and one of them called out to him.

"Riva, sweetheart, come in! Come try this stuff, it's the best you've had yet!"

The others began to laugh and giggle, and with a tremendous effort he wrenched himself away from the sight and continued down the hallway. He had made himself a promise. No more. No more being ashamed of himself, no more being a slave to chemicals. No matter how badly his mind screamed at him to go back, he would not give in.

A pair of droidekas stood on either side of the large hatch leading to Teskya's inner sanctum. At his approach they trained their blasters on him, and then an eye-shaped scanning device popped out and gave him a good look up and down. Satisfied that he was no threat, it retracted back into it's socket with a grunt and the hatch opened. Beyond was a lavish bar with droids serving drinks and droids pulling security. Teskya trusted machines with his security far more than he trusted living organisms. Less complicated, far fewer ulterior motives. Soft, sensual music was being played by Teskya's favorite band, who were seated behind a well-lit dance floor where beautiful women writhed and ungulated, graceful and alluring. Teskya's trusted inner circle were arrayed all around, indulging in their drugs of choice, conducting business and enjoying each other's company or else staring transfixed at the dancers. All of this took place under the watchful eye of IG-100 droids. Teskya spared no expense on his own security. It would have taken several battalions of the Coruscant police force to get through to him and by that time he would doubtless have slipped out through some hidden escape tunnel. Teskya was as firmly entrenched as it was possible for a Hutt to be. A 3PO model protocol droid spotted him and gave him a very diplomatic wave.

"Master Riva! You have returned, and so soon! Why, you haven't even been gone a week."

"Is Teskya busy?"

"He is, but come-" the droid replied. "The meeting is wrapping up as we speak."

He allowed the droid to lead him back through another hatch and into Teskya's "office". Unlike many Hutts, Teskya preferred to keep to himself as much as possible. He scheduled meetings as one-on-ones or only with those involved in the matter immediately at hand. Everyone else could wait outside. Every so often he graced the nightclub with his presence but rarely did he go to handle matters in person. His personal quarters were almost as spacious as the bar outside. One whole side of the room was taken up by a huge fish tank which went much farther back into the wall than it at first appeared to. Inside an orb-like droid was busy cleaning the scum off of the walls and feeding the innumerable varieties of sea creature which lived inside. The other walls were occupied by book shelves. Teskya was an avid reader. He felt, rightly, that it gave him an advantage to be constantly immersed in study. No less than ten IG-100 droids stood in specially-built alcoves beside the bookshelves, their eyes watching everything. A semicircular desk in the center of the room was where Teskya conducted most of his affairs with visitors. A small droid moved to and fro across the floor, cleaning up the trails of slime he had left earlier in the day. Sitting before the desk today was a being who immediately caused a frown to twist Riva's lips.

Mel Aranian was a beautiful Twi'lek and also the second best bounty hunter in Teskya's employ after him. The two of them had a… complicated history. In recent years after Riva had gotten clean from death sticks it was one marked by a constant rivalry for the position of Teskya's favorite. Teskya himself looked up at Riva's approach, and his stubby little arms rose slightly in a gesture of greeting and deference.

"De wanna wanga."

"H-chu apenkee pateesa." Riva replied, speaking some of the little huttese he knew.

Mel gave him a searching look, and then stood, bowed to Teskya, and left the room, leaving them alone. The protocal droid began to translate.

"Man-tah murishani, man-tah."

"What news do you bring?"

Riva pressed a button on his gauntlet and the floating coffin at his side swung its lid outward, displaying the sleeping contents.

"Good, good..." Teskya said, his voice rumbling. "Again you please me with your speed and reliability."

He gestured and two IG droids stepped forward, removed the autoinjector from the bounty's neck and hauled him out of the coffin like a sack of potatoes.

"When you leave here, go to the treasurer droid for your reward."

"Thank you, my lord." Riva said, inclining his head slightly.

"I assume you will be eager to take on your next assignment, as usual?"

"Yes. Which bounties do you have for me this time?"

Teskya reached into a drawer of the desk and withdrew a single bounty puck.

"For the moment, I only have one bounty for you, and this one is easily the most difficult and the most rewarding job you will ever be assigned, should you choose to take it."

Riva felt an uneasiness creep over him. This was unusual. Teskya always had plenty of bounty options for him. Clearly he wanted him on this job.

"Who is the target?"

Teskya pressed a button on the base of the puck and a hologram of a young Mirialan female. In her hand was a lightsaber.

"A rogue Jedi. They call their learners "padawans", and this padawan has apparently run away from the Jedi temple and is causing a great deal of trouble in the mid-rim. Needless to say, despite not being fully mature in her training, she is incredibly dangerous. Perhaps the most dangerous opponent you have faced yet."

"Nothing a well-placed shot from my slugthrower can't fix."

"Indeed, that would probably be the easiest way to claim this bounty, and the issuer is not opposed to paying out for a corpse. They have offered ten million credits for the padawan's body, but you should keep in mind that they have also offered an additional thirty five million should you be able to bring her in with breath still in her body."

A low whistle passed Riva's lips, and his apprehension turned into excitement. Ten million credits was more than he had made in the last three years of non-stop hunting. The full bounty would be more than he had ever made in his entire career.

"Yes..." Teskya said with a slimy smile, "...it is quite a sum, and I am as eager to please the bounty's issuer as you are to gain the reward. If I am able to show this individual that I am a being of my word and a trustworthy business partner, there will be a great deal more opportunities for the both of us. What do you think?"

"Naturally, I accept."

"I figured that you would." Teskya said, "This will be a good test of your abilities. I trust that it is nothing you can't handle."

"She won't know what hit her."

Teskya placed the puck down on the table and Riva picked it up, trying to pretend that he wasn't strategically placing his fingers to minimize contact with the slimy film that Teskya's grip had left behind.

"One more thing before you go, Riva. I know you are not fond of using carbonite, but I am going to insist that you borrow one of my receptacles for this job. Holding a Jedi against their will is like trying to catch smoke with your bare hands. I want to minimize the possibility of failure as much as possible. I will have a private speeder take it with you when you go home."

"Thank you Teskya. I won't disappoint you." Riva said.

The treasury was one hallway down from the place where the death sticks were being packaged. That door was mercifully closed now, but the smell still lingered. Riva pressed a button on the door to the vault and the heavy sliding door ground partway open, just enough to let the treasurer droid peek out. Seeing that it was him, the droid opened the door all the way and let him in, quickly closing it once he was inside. The vault was about five hundred feet square, and stacked halfway to the ceiling with precious metals, credit chips, and all manner of valuables. Two camera bubbles lay in opposite corners of the ceiling, but as they passed between two towering piles of loot he saw his opportunity. There were blind spots in the camera's coverage due to how high the Hutt had his vault packed. Not only that, but the sheer volume of currency and valuables that Teskya traded on the white market every day meant that it was next to impossible to keep an accurate inventory on everything that he had. Riva had been inside his security room where the camera feeds were wired to and he had also seen firsthand the accounting methods that were used to keep track of his expenditures, profits and losses. It was meticulous, but it had flaws. One of the major ones was that only the final profit from each shipment of goods sold was recorded, not the actual number of items sold, meaning that minor discrepancies, say a certain Mandalorian swiping two ingots of Aurodium every time he was let into the vault for payday, went unnoticed as the total value of the loss fell well within market fluctuations of the price of that good. Two small ingots, one for each pants pocket. He was never searched, and the pile was so disorganized and haphazard, he had been doing it for almost three years now on a monthly basis and no one had ever noticed. Each ingot was worth 60,000 credits easily. The treasurer droid led him to the pile of credit chips, retrieved 175,000 creds worth from the pile and placed them inside a small pouch which it handed to him. Riva took it, muttered a thanks which was greeted by stony silence, and then made his way back through security and into the nightclub.

The speeder which Teskya had reserved to take him home was waiting for him outside, engines already revved up. He was halfway to it when a familiar voice called out his name.

"Riva!"

He turned. It was Mal.

"What is it."

She seemed… different. At times there was a playfulness to her rivalry with him, and at times it bordered on outright contempt, but at this moment her face seemed sad.

"I miss the way things used to be between us. Take me home with you. Let me spend the night like we used to."

"If you think you're going to trick me into letting you copy the data on this bounty puck, you must think I'm losing my touch."

Mal shook her head as though he was being stupid, and something about the way she did it seemed sincere.

"Fine. Sorry I asked."

"If you still have feelings for me, you need to get over them. We're coworkers, not lovers. I should never have gotten involved with you. It was a bad idea." Riva said.

Suddenly Mal looked like she was on the verge of tears and Riva opened his mouth instinctively, looking for something to say, but she turned and walked swiftly away.

"Damn it..." Riva muttered to himself as he got into the speeder.

He wasn't sure why his mind was making this so complicated when it was extremely simple. But why had she tried to push the issue now? What prompted this?He was no closer to the answer by the time the speeder dropped him back off at his junkyard hideout. As he watched the craft zip away into the night, he was again thankful for his helmet. The human face betrayed too much valuable information for him to leave his uncovered.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 – Freedom and Fortune

The sun beat down on the adobe roofs and dusty streets of Jedha City with fearsome intensity. The only respite from it was the cloth overhangs of the market stalls and the alleyways tall and narrow enough to cast a shadow on their occupants.

Velona watched intently as the dice fell from the calloused hands of her opponent and tumbled end over end. She had played her hand perfectly. When one wished to cheat, especially at dice, it was vital to let the other person win a couple of rounds. It helped to dampen the blow and allay suspicions of foul play. She had showed up to this game an unknown quantity, just some teenage human girl who happened to have a fair amount of credits on her, and immediately she had lost two games, one one, and then lost another. Then she had wagered everything she had left, two thirds of her original sum, pretending that she was either rich or frustrated or both. They had taken the bait and matched her big bet. As she watched the dice roll, she reached out through the force and gave them a nudge in the right direction.

"Ha!" She shouted, mimicking surprised joy at her victory.

Her opponents groaned and recoiled as she scooped up her winnings from the ground.

"Good game fellas, till next time."

With almost twice the amount of money she had previously she walked through the marketplace, savoring her freedom. She had packed up and left in the middle of the night, stowing away in the cargohold of a freighter bound for the mid-rim and ending up on the desert moon of Jeddha. The days were hot and the nights were cold but at last she had the freedom that she so desired. She hadn't fully realized it was freedom she was craving all those years at the Jedi temple, but now that she had it she realized she would always have been secretly unhappy living the life of a Jedi knight. It was in many ways a lonely, isolated existence, and after the hypocrisy she had seen she was absolutely certain she could stand it no longer.

Merchants called out to passers-by, advertising their wares and their prices. She stopped at a juice vendor and got something to drink. She had been making her living through petty theft and small hustles like the dice she had just rigged, but she knew that there was only so long that could continue. Sooner or later she would cheat the shell game one too many times or steal from the wrong person and then there would be goons after her and that was no way to live. She wanted to ask around about work but she didn't know where to begin, who she could trust, and who she should befriend. The only people that she trusted were the Guardians of the Whills and the other monks and attendants of the Kyber Temple. When she had come to them begging with only her cloak for warmth they had taken her in and offered her a place to stay once she had revealed who she was. They were rather in awe of her. Despite its position in the history and lineage of the force, few Jedi ever came here. They were busy training or meditating or traversing the galaxy acting as policemen. The Jedi order was surrounded by a great deal of rumors and speculation, but the truth of what she had seen during her time there was an organization of people who truly felt secure in their place as the most important beings in the galaxy. There was nothing for them to learn except from their masters and nothing within their ways that they needed to change.

Her thoughts drifted to her father. Was he still alive? Did he still think of her? It was so long ago when she was taken from him, she only had a few memories left that had survived, but those that did were of a kind, gentle man. A figure who still occupied her dreams and much of her waking thoughts. She purchased some meat and seasonings and made her way back to the temple where she was greeted by the guardian Anakki. Anakki was an elderly Zabarak who had taken it upon himself to advocate for Velona to the other guardians, some of whom had been skeptical about allowing her to stay.

"Hello again young one."

"Hello Anakki. How are you?"

"Good, good. Did you get something to eat?"

"I did."

He followed her back to her modest quarters and helped her set up her hotplate and draw water up for the stew. As she laid out her ingredients on the table next to the cauldron the pouch containing the credit chips fell from her waist and spilled onto the floor. Hurriedly she bent down and snatched up all the little chips, placing them back into the bag.

"You need to find a better place to keep your money my child." Anakki said. "Where did you get all that?"

Velona hesitated. "I… won it. In a game of chance."

Anakki shook his head disapprovingly.

"That is not the Jedi way. The force should not be used for things so trivial."

"Good thing I am not a Jedi anymore, then." Velona said.

They were silent for a moment while they waited for the water to come to a boil and Velona cut the meat into small bits with her knife and tossed some of the spices into the pot.

"May I ask why you ran away?" Anakki said, at last.

Velona thought carefully about what to say next, and then decided to tell him the truth.

"I left because I saw things that made me question everything I thought I knew about the Order."

She finished chopping the last piece of meat and tossed the bits into the pot. The water hissed and crackled.

"My master was a powerful jedi-" she said, "one of the best lightsaber duelists alive today. He taught me to keep secrets. He taught me things that went against the jedi code. He knew about my sadness and my anger and my dissatisfaction with my life at the temple. I believe he chose me as his padawan because he felt that I would follow him without question. He too questioned the ways of the order, but the path he chose is one that leads to the dark side and I was unwilling to follow him any further."

"What secrets did he ask you to keep?" Anakki said, his eyes widening.

"My master studied Sith holocrons from the archives. As a Jedi master he was entitled to, but there was a reason all but the highest ranking Jedi were forbidden from viewing them. The power they contain is insidious and corrupts those who are not strong enough to resist its lure. My master taught me techniques that I knew he should not have. Sith techniques. I knew it was wrong but I could not bring myself to say anything. He convinced me that the Jedi were foolish not to use the full range of the force, and that we were both on the same side, wise skeptics of the rigidity of Jedi doctrine, but the truth was that my master had lost his way. In time I came to see that."

"Who was your master?"

"Dooku. My master was Dooku. Trained by Master Yoda himself."

Anakki shook his head in disgust.

"How could Master Yoda not sense this evil in the very midst of the Jedi Temple, the most sacred place of all?"

"I have come to believe that the Jedi have been blinded. They have become complacent through years of peace, and something else is clouding their vision… I cannot sense exactly what it is, but some darkness is growing in the galaxy. I can feel it when I meditate. I could feel it even in the Temple, surrounded by so many other Jedi- some blackness growing in strength, biding its time before striking."

"Perhaps the darkness you felt is Master Dooku."

"Perhaps… but something tells me Dooku is only one part of a greater whole. I feel a crisis coming, but I cannot say from where. All I know is that I feel this way most strongly when I am on Coruscant, outside of the temple."

They fell silent again, both of them deep in thought. A while later the soup was finished and they filled their bowls. Anakki filled several more bowls and went to take them to some of the other temple guardians. Velona blew on her bowl until it was cool enough to sip, and then downed it quickly. She hadn't realized how hungry she had been. That night sleep came slowly to her, and when it did her dreams were troubled by visions of dark figures in cloaks, their faces shrouded in shadow.

The next morning she woke to find a large basin of water for her to wash herself in. She silently thanked Anakki. The dust and sand that was constantly being blown around Jedha's surface had a way of working itself into every crevice of her body, no matter how well covered. There it mixed with the sweat from the heat of the day and formed a rough, irritating cake on the surface of her skin. She washed herself clean and then put on a fresh tunic and loose fitting breaches. Her traveling cloak she pulled over her. Despite the heat of the day, it was better to have her hood and cloak on to keep the sun off of her and protect her delicate skin from the intense blast of ultraviolet rays. Her first few days here had been spent recovering from a terrible sunburn.

She went down into the marketplace, mingling with the morning crowds and taking in the sights and sounds and smells of the bustling city center. Today she had her heart set on finding work, so she made her way to the cantina which was just two blocks from the spaceport. One way or another she was going to meet someone who had work. Jedha City had other cantinas, but this one was the largest and had the least sleazy reputation, which wasn't saying much. She hopped up on a bar stool and confidently asked the waiter for a cup of Jawa Juice. The barkeep chuckled.

"You sure you don't want a glass of water, kid? Where is your parents?"

"My mother is buried in a shallow grave somewhere on Correllia, and I have no idea where my father is. He abandoned me when I was five." Velona replied, giving the bartender what she imagined was a serious look and slapping down a credit chip on the counter.

The man's taunting leer softened a bit and he sighed.

"Fair enough. One Jawa Juice, coming up."

"Do you know where I can find some work? I just arrived here and I'm trying to find something steady." She said as he poured her a pint of thick brown liquid into a glass that was… mostly clean.

He pointed at a portly man sitting in a booth in the far corner of the room talking to someone who was clearly a pilot.

"That's the portmaster over there. He runs the Jedha City Spaceport. He's always got work unloading cargo, running tools and parts to the maintenance crews or just general cleaning up. Ask him."

She thanked the bartender and left another credit chip on the counter which he happily pocketed, then made her way over to the portmaster's table. She was a bit nervous, but Jedha had a strange, friendly atmosphere to it. People tended to be gruff at first but quite accommodating once they decided you were an honest soul and not out to swindle them, quite the opposite of Coruscant where everyone was superficially polite but rarely out to make friends. When she sat down both the pilot and the portmaster stopped in mid sentence and stared at her with eyebrows raised as if a Koulhun had just crawled onto their table and they were deciding if they should smash it or run.

"Do your parents know you're here?" The pilot said, incredulously, causing her to roll her eyes.

"Well considering one is dead and the other left me with religious zealots when I was barely old enough to remember his face, I'd say no, they don't."

"What do you want?" The portmaster said, sizing her up.

She took a deep swig of the Jawa Juice and suppressed a cough. Now was not the time to reveal that she was not a regular drinker. It did not at all fit the persona she was trying to project.

"The man who poured me this says you can get me a job. I'm not picky, I just need to put some credits in my pocket and some food on my table. That something you can help me with?"

The portmaster had a very thin mustache, and it wrinkled as his lips bunched up at one side of his mouth. She could almost see the gears turning behind his eyes.

"The only job I have right now is unloading cargo. You don't look very sturdy to me. Unless you think you can hack it hauling crates out of containers all day in the dead heat, I'd say I can't help you."

"No problem. I'm a lot stronger than I look. When can I start?"

The portmaster and the pilot traded glances. She could tell they were wondering if she was serious or just drunk.

"Tomorrow first thing in the morning. Report to the droid at the gate, it'll tell you where to go and who to talk to."

"Thanks." She said, downing the rest of her Jawa Juice and standing up. "I appreciate it."

"Don't mention it." The portmaster replied.

She set the glass back on the bar counter and left, feeling quite pleased with herself, and also a bit tipsy. Her stomach was empty and the Jawa Juice was kicking in fast. She could feel several pairs of eyes watching her as she stepped out the door and into the sunlight. She pulled the hood of her cloak over her head and began to walk back towards the market when her gaze was drawn by the sound of children shouting. A bulky looking human boy and a Rodian of similar age were passing a ball back and forth, playing keep away from a young human girl who was in tears, screaming at them to give it back. As Velona watched, the human boy tripped her and she fell hard into the dirt. Unable to stand by any longer, Velona stepped forward.

"Give her back her ball."

The two boys looked at her scornfully.

"Who are you?"

"I'm her big sister, and if you don't give her back her ball right now and treat her nicely from now on, I'm going to make you regret it."

"Huh. I'd love to see you try!"

Velona reached out through the force and the ball levitated up through the air and into her hand. The boy's eyes widened in shock. As they watched, the ball swung back around and smacked them both in the face. They turned and ran in terror, and Velona returned the ball to the young girl.

"Thank you."

"Of course. Now be safe, and if those boys bother you again just tell them your big sister is going to come beat them up."

Velona patted her on the back and the little girl took her ball and ran off. As she straightened up she noticed a group of Jawas watching intently. She suddenly felt nervous. It was foolish of her to use her force powers so openly. Word was sure to get around. Jawas were not known to keep many secrets. She turned and quickly made her way back towards the marketplace, hoping that her hood had obscured her features.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4 - The Hunt

Riva checked his slugthrower one more time as the ramp lowered and daylight flooded into the cargohold. It was an autorevolver, an ancient design with a seven-shot cylinder that sealed firmly with the barrel when it was fired, allowing him to fit a six inch suppressor on the muzzle of the weapon. The noise when fired was a rich **THWACK**, sounding something like a very wide leather belt smacking someone in the face. The slugs were just a hair over half an inch wide and they tore through armor, flesh and bone with reckless abandon. He would need it for this mission. If he couldn't take the Jedi by surprise, he would have to kill her, and quickly. He had seen the holoreels of lightsabers deflecting blaster bolts right back at the person who fired them and he was not eager to see a firsthand demonstration or to give his quarry any time to fight back.

As he walked down the landing ramp the hot air of Jedha hit Riva like a furnace. He hated desert worlds. Cold was one thing, you could put on warmer clothes or do a hundred other things to raise your temperature, but when you were hot there was not much you could do to stay cool. His armor had a lot of tricks, but one thing it didn't have was any kind of cooling system. His helmet had a small fan and air intake port but that was more to keep the electronics from overheating than for personal comfort.

The maintenance droids approached, clicking and chirruping, but he waved them away, closing the landing ramp behind him.

"Just hyper-drive fuel and coolant. No repairs needed."

He armed the security system on the ship to alert him in case somebody tried snooping around. The AEG-77 Vigo was a chunky old bird and he had barely managed to fit it into the largest size of hanger the Jedha City spaceport offered for rent. Originally it had been a transport but the Black Sun had fitted it with enough firepower to rival most gunships. It wasn't the fastest but it had seen him through some tight scrapes. He exited the hanger and made his way through the crowded spaceport and onto the street.

In no time at all he was on her trail. In a nearby cantina, a few credit chips to the bartender earned him the information he was looking for.

"I remember the girl, yeah. Seemed awfully young to be hanging around a place like this. She's working in the space port now, unloading cargo containers."

Riva's heart skipped a beat. It was possible he had walked right past her, although he doubted he had. He tended to keep a very close eye on his surroundings and everyone moving through them. Situational awareness had saved his life more times than he could count. He examined the target's picture in the top right of his helmet's heads up display one more time and then dismissed it, trying to keep that dark hair and those mournful looking eyes burned into his vision.

Velona was having and absolutely wonderful time at her new job. With the force assisting her, lifting even the heaviest items was hardly a problem. Her main problem was pretending to strain and grunt convincingly enough to avoid making her fellow workers suspicious. She took care not to make it look too easy and left the largest crates for the others or else asked for help with them. Soon enough it was time for her lunch and she decided to revisit the cantina just down the street. She had begun to rather enjoy Jawa Juice. It was a nice treat, especially after working a long shift pretending to struggle with lifting things.

Before she had even left the spaceport's main gate however, she could sense trouble. Someone was following her. They were doing a fairly good job at pretending they simply happened to be going in the same direction, but Velona could feel their eyes locked on her and the man's intention rippling through the force. It was not a good one. She spared a glance to her right, pretending to look at a pair of Jawas haggling loudly with a Toydarian over moisture farming components, but in reality she was looking behind her. She caught a glimpse of the distinctive helmet and chest plate of Mandalorian armor. This was not good. From what she knew of Mandalorians they were extremely proficient fighters and traveled everywhere armed to the teeth. The only reason one would be following her was if there was a significant bounty on her head, far larger than any grudge she might have incurred from a casual dice game. No, this was not good at all…

Instead of walking into the cantina, she continued on past the entrance and turned left into an alleyway, bumping into someone who was carrying two cans of some kind of oil in his hands.

"Hey, watch where you're going!" He barked, and Velona looked back just in time to see the Mandalorian turning the corner and raising his arm. She flattened herself against the wall of the alley just in time. A saber dart came zipping through the air and scraped the opposite wall, leaving a long streak. She broke into a dead run.

"Fuck..." Riva muttered under his breath as the dart just barely missed her. The girl turned and sprinted down the alley and he gave chase. They went right, then right, then left and then right again. They crossed one of the main roads through town once more. She was incredibly agile, dodging around moving carts and sliding between the front and back legs of a Bantha, much to the consternation of its rider. By the time Riva had run around the beast, he just caught sight of her scrambling up the side of an adobe wall and disappearing. He couldn't afford to lose her. If she got away it would be much, much harder to find her again.

In desperation he pushed the ignition on his jetpack and throttled it all the way up immediately, sending him flying forward and over the wall. As he cleared it he could see the courtyard of a small residential compound which contained a well and a cart leaned vertically up against the far wall. The girl was clambering up the cart, about to hop the second wall when Riva's whipcord snaked out and tangled itself around her ankle. He tugged hard with both hands and she fell off the cart and into the sand. Immediately there was a flash of blue light and a humming noise as a lightsaber sprung to life and slashed the whipcord in half. Without thinking, he raised his hand and unleashed a torrent of flame from his gauntlet. The inferno engulfed the girl, but it did not consume her. Instead it split before her outstretched hand and was deflected around her body, singing the edges of her clothing. Out of nowhere the cart he had seen earlier flew from the wall as if possessed by some kind of spirit and flew towards him. He rolled out of the way and it smashed into the wall. His stream of flame extinguished, he drew his slugthrower. It was time to end this.

Riva prided himself on being a good shot, but at this moment adrenaline was pumping through his body and although he would not admit it to anyone he was afraid. Now that he had caught up to this Jedi he realized why the bounty had been so exorbitant.

**THWACK**

The first shot went wide, the recoil knocking his wrist back painfully.

**THWACK**

The next shot went into the dirt at the girl's feet, kicking up a spray of sand, she fell backward and rolled behind the well, her lightsaber humming as she did so. Riva's heart pounded as he tried to put one of the slugs into her. He sprinted sideways around the well, desperate now. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the cart reentering his field of vision.

**THWACK THWACK THWACK**

He placed three shots through the wood of the cart as the girl used it first as a shield and then as a battering ram to throw him against the wall. Splinters of wood exploded outward as he slammed into the mud-covered bricks and then fell to the ground. The wind was entirely knocked out of him, but he had managed to keep his slugthrower in his hand. Instinctively he brought it back up to eye level just in time to see the girl charging at him with her lightsaber in front of her.

**THWACK THWACK**

The last two slugs left his barrel and traveled all the way through her blade. The energy contained within it disintegrated them and turned them into a spray of molten metal which slammed into her chest and neck. She screamed in pain and dropped her lightsaber, which shorted out the moment the blade touched the sandy ground.

Seizing his opportunity, Riva quickly shot a tranquilizer dart into her neck. She seemed to be in so much pain that she hardly noticed the dart. She clutched at her neck, and then turned to him with a wild expression and extended her arm out towards him, her hand making a clutching motion. Suddenly Riva felt himself lifted up off the ground as if he was using his jetpack, and his breathing ceased entirely. He choked and sputtered, unable to get any air as he slowly levitated upwards, his legs kicking. It felt as though some invisible blockage was lodged inside his airway and nothing could get past it. Velona had a look in her eyes which was one of absolute fury and loathing. As the seconds dragged by, though, the expression began to soften, and soon enough her eyes rolled back into her head as the tranquilizer took effect and both she and Riva fell back onto the ground.

He lay there for a while, gasping for air.

When he pushed himself up onto his knees he could see a mother and four children peeping out from one of the doorways at the far end of the compound. He wanted to call out and tell them it was safe to come out now, but for the moment all he could do was catch his breath. Then he set about putting restraints on the Jedi.

Teskya was right, he would need to get her in carbon freeze quickly. There was no way he was going through all that again if she woke up from her slumber. He bent down and picked up the lightsaber from the ground. Before it had shorted out it had fused the sand into glass, leaving behind a scorch mark approximately three feet long. He remembered the unearthly humming sound it had made and a shiver went up his spine. Quickly he put it away and slung the sleeping Jedi over his shoulder.

He could feel the excitement at the prospect of several million credits flooding into his account begin to creep over him but he beat it back. Not yet. He was not home safe just yet.


End file.
